


I Would Go to Jail (And Stay There) For You

by Ilyria



Category: Chinese Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Police, Bottom Wang Yi Bo/Top Xiao Zhan | Sean, Con Artist Xiao Zhan, Detective Wang Yi Bo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyria/pseuds/Ilyria
Summary: A priceless artefact goes missing at the museum, and Detective Wang Yibo interrogates a silver-tongued suspect who is more than he seems.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean
Comments: 31
Kudos: 219
Collections: ZSWW/LSFY Week 2021





	I Would Go to Jail (And Stay There) For You

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful, enthusiastic [jalpari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalpari/) for organizing this amazing event and thank you to all the talented creators for sharing such lovely works!
> 
> This is inspired by Xiao Zhan wanting to play a bad guy, these photos ([1](https://ibb.co/VHTPb3M), [2](https://ibb.co/QMGkmWt), [3](https://ibb.co/gW4hrjC)) of Xiao Zhan looking like a smooth criminal, and police officer!Yibo. You can chat with me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/redsilklady)!

What a shame for their subject that he and Qian Feng are not female officers. That handsome face and congenial smile surely would win him points in his favour with the ladies. Or anyone other than Yibo. As usual, Yibo lets Qian Feng do all the talking while he assesses in silence, the cool, unnerving foil to Qian Feng’s trusty, jovial character. Their man, Xiao Zhan, isn’t flustered by Yibo’s blatant scrutiny, answering all of their questions amenably and thoughtfully.

By his account, nothing had been out of the ordinary in the days leading up to the discovery of the theft of the Ming dynasty vase on loan at the museum. As the security guard, he hadn’t witnessed any suspicious character or activity during the extent of the exhibition period. Apparently, as far as anyone knows, the vessel had been mysteriously switched for a replica at some unknown point after its arrival at the museum.

By all appearances, he is open and cooperative, freely providing information to the best of his knowledge, and not evasive, nervous, or unsure of himself. He is not suspicious in the slightest. But Yibo doesn’t trust him at all.

“You understand that in cases of gallery and museum theft, the majority of it are inside jobs?” Yibo cuts in, watching him closely for any giveaway. “Normal people wouldn’t enjoy the same proximity or unfettered access to the object. Or know its value and schedule and those of the people around it. Furthermore, as museum security, you have access to cameras and are regularly alone for long periods of time with the object.”

The man doesn’t seem offended at his implication. “Of course, I understand I am a person of interest, but I am happy to assist your investigation any way I can.” He looks into Yibo’s eyes with bright earnestness. “You are only doing your due diligence and the sooner you finish looking into the staff, the sooner you can move on to other suspects.”

When the interview is over, Xiao Zhan grasps Yibo’s sleeve before they can leave. “Why don’t you leave a number I can reach you at, Officer?”

“Detective,” Yibo corrects automatically, used to the mistake given how young he looks, and still is.

Xiao Zhan is impressed, his eyes twinkling with a flirtatious glint. “ _Detective_. How can I reach you in case something comes up?”

“You can call the station.”

“What about for a coffee sometime?”

Yibo is about to shoot him down, but Qian Feng, convinced along with Da Zhangwei that Yibo needs to get out more, cuts in. “I’ll leave it to you then to give him our contact info.”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t take long after to follow up about that coffee. Yibo ignores his texts but the man isn’t discouraged, and eventually after one too many messages light up Yibo’s phone, Qian Feng remarks, “I’d warn you not to play hard to get too much but I know you aren’t even at all. You may be young and handsome now, Yibo, but you are way too married to your job. No wonder your poor ex left you.”

“I left him actually,” Yibo corrects, not looking up from his computer screen.

Qian Feng sighs. “Exactly my point about being married to your job.”

The investigation into the theft of the vase doesn’t go well, the case all the more confounding by their inability to establish a definitive time that the switch took place. The artefact had been on loan from another museum and had been displayed without any problems or unusual occurrences. It was only when the time came for it to be returned that the curator noticed irregularities in the detailing and the discovery was made that the artefact was, in fact, a well-produced replica.

Without a when or how that the disappearance occurred, they make no headway into the case until Da Zhangwei uncovers something dubious during background checks on the staff.

“Most of them have been there years, decades even, with no incident. Except for that security guard.” Yibo eagerly rifles through the folder containing the findings as Da Zhangwei explains. “Strangely couldn’t dig up anything about him before a couple years ago, but get this.” Da Zhangwei points out a photo of a luxurious mansion and launches in.

Before the museum, the security guard had been employed at a private estate working for a wealthy, elderly lady. She had come from old money and possessed a priceless art collection alongside her fortune and multiple properties. Before she passed, she unexpectedly changed her will to leave her entire art collection to her new driver, a man unrelated to her, not even half her age, and whom she’d apparently only known for a few months. Of course, her grandchildren allege fraud, claiming the man is a con artist and somehow manipulated their eighty-year-old grandmother into leaving him valuable assets that rightfully belong to them and which they want returned. There isn’t much they can do, however, as multiple sources, including the lady’s own lawyer and servants, confirm she had been of sound mind when revising her will.

Yibo picks out a photo taken at what looks like the inside of an opera house of an elegant elderly lady in a fur coat. Beside her, a handsome Xiao Zhan in a suit steadies her by the arm. In another photo, they are strolling through an extravagant garden, every inch the affluent, sophisticated pair.

“Does he look like just a driver to you?” Qian Feng remarks over his shoulder. “Tell me, Yibo, would you still work if you just inherited a fortune?”

“Let’s bring him in for questioning,” Yibo says, already out of his seat and seizing his leather jacket and helmet.

Behind him, Da Zhangwei snorts. “Yibo definitely would.”

Inside the interrogation room, Xiao Zhan doesn’t look at all perplexed at being invited to the police station and greets Yibo with a beatific smile. Yibo braces himself against his charm with a reminder that this is the disarming weapon of a swindler.

“Detective. Just yourself today? No partner to play good cop, bad cop with on me?” Xiao Zhan winks, adding, “Your partner last time was very nice, but I go for the bad ones anyway.”

“You’re here for questioning,” Yibo brusquely reminds him. “You’re not under arrest, but we have some things to ask you.”

“Understood. But after business is done, surely we can get to know each other some more?”

Yibo ignores the flirtation, launching right in. “Tell me about your work history.”

“I had the odd stint here and there. Nothing long,” Xiao Zhan tells him vaguely. After a pause as if debating whether to share, he continues, “If you must know, I haven’t been able to hold down anything steady after the love of my life walked out years ago.”

“Didn’t ask about your love life,” Yibo says drily and cuts straight to the point. “Before the museum, you were briefly employed at the Wei estate. What did you do?”

“I was the chauffeur to the lovely Mrs. Wei. I drove her everywhere she wanted to go.”

“Just a chauffeur?”

Xiao Zhan gives him a blank, innocent look, so Yibo fishes out the news article of Mrs. Wei’s descendants claiming their grandmother had been conned and her beloved art collection effectively stolen. “How do you explain this?”

“From her family’s shock during the reading of the will, I don’t believe they knew it had been revised. Of course, it is understandable they would be upset their grandmother’s cherished belongings went to someone outside the family.”

“They were shocked and upset? That’s all you have to say in your defense?”

“What else could it be?” the man asks innocently.

Yibo tries another direct question. “What was the true nature of your relationship with Mrs. Wei?”

“Nothing untoward, I assure you. We bonded quite well over a shared passion for art. She was a tasteful collector, and I often drove her to galleries and showings. I could tell she quite appreciated having a fellow art enthusiast to talk to.”

A fellow art enthusiast? _Really?_

Xiao Zhan grins at Yibo’s skepticism. “I was an art student myself a long time ago. Still paint occasionally when I have time. What can I say? I like beautiful things,” he drawls, not looking away from Yibo.

Yibo holds his gaze, even and impassive, though he has to admit the man’s boldness is charming. Maybe Mrs. Wei couldn’t resist her handsome, young driver either, especially not when he was in her company everyday.

“Mrs. Wei couldn’t have left you all that just because of a shared interest in paintings. You obviously got along _very_ well if she left you her precious art collection.” The thought disgusts him, but Yibo has encountered incredible lengths human beings are capable of going to in this line of work, so he asks directly, “Were you sexually or romantically involved with Mrs. Wei?”

Despite his innocent play earlier, Xiao Zhan doesn’t feign bewilderment. “No, I was strictly her driver. And a friend. She was eighty and had no family around to keep her company or take her out to art galleries or the theater. In some ways, she was like a grandmother to me, always asking about me and my life.” Mouth quirking, Xiao Zhan looks straight into Yibo’s eyes as his voice drops into a conspiratorial whisper. “She is not my type at all. I prefer smart, gorgeous, driven young men, not lovely elderly ladies.

“In fact, she’d often inquire if I’d met any interesting young men lately. I disappointed her every time though, because,” he gives Yibo a wistful look, “my pitiful, romantic self is still in love with the same man who broke my heart years ago.”

“That is pitiful,” Yibo agrees, blunt and without sympathy. “Where is the art collection now?”

“Safely stored, of course. I don’t currently have the space or security for such precious paintings.”

“Going to sell them?”

“Of course not!” Xiao Zhan gasps like Yibo had proposed blasphemy. “Mrs. Wei left them to me precisely because she knew I would cherish them! How could I sell them?”

“What are you going to do with them then? If you sell just one or two, you can make enough to live on comfortably. Why bother hustling when you’ve just inherited a small fortune?”

“I like working for a living,” Xiao Zhan readily replies, smiling. “I enjoy meeting people, and there are all sorts who come to the museum. Besides,” his smile turns sly, “if I didn’t take this job, how would I meet dashing, dedicated detectives like yourself?”

This interview is going nowhere; Yibo is not uncovering anything he can use. In truth, they have nothing other than skepticism on Xiao Zhan. As peculiar as it is that he happened to inherit some invaluable objects from someone he had only known a short while, it is not criminal. What Yibo needs is some evidence that Xiao Zhan is capable of deception, that he is not as innocent as he makes himself out to be. But he also knows Xiao Zhan is too clever to leave any exploitable opening in his carefully crafted façade.

“Do you know why we invited you here?”

“I hoped it was because you wanted to see me again, Detective.” A wink. “But I’m not offended because I know you are busy with this case, and I’m willing to help out any way I can.”

“A priceless artefact goes missing, but no one knows how or when it happened. Then we uncover prior accusations of fraud against someone connected to the mysterious disappearance. Do you realize how suspicious this makes you look?”

“Detective, I understand you must investigate all leads. But I’m afraid those are baseless allegations born from dissatisfaction over a rich woman’s will. After all, the lawsuit was dropped because there is no evidence Mrs. Wei was coerced into signing away her assets—or at all incapable of making her own decisions.”

“Did you con the old lady?” Yibo challenges outright anyway.

“No. We were good friends,” Xiao Zhan promises, face earnest. “She gifted me her precious paintings because she trusted I would look after them.”

Since there is nothing to lose at this point, Yibo asks point-blank, “Were you involved in the disappearance of the vase?”

“No! I am just as dismayed that this happened and want to get to the bottom of this. If it helps clear me and lets you move on to other suspects, I am willing to take a polygraph test,” Xiao Zhan volunteers. But Yibo doesn’t need a polygraph to tell him what he already knows: this man is a master liar. Even if the needle oscillates wildly to indicate deception, Yibo wouldn’t extract any new information out of him.

Losing control of his temper, Yibo unclenches his jaw and hisses, “I know you swindled an old woman and you’re responsible for taking the artefact. And when I find evidence, I’m taking you down.”

For the first time since encountering Xiao Zhan at the museum, Yibo witnesses a smirk that can only be described as wicked stretch across his lips. “I’m interested in seeing what you come up with, Detective.”

Qian Feng enters the room then, obviously here to fix Yibo’s damage and build some rapport with their prime suspect. “I’ll finish up here, Yibo. Something came up for you,” he says as though Yibo isn’t being dismissed.

Outside the interrogation room, on the other side of the one-way glass, Wang Han is watching the interview, arms crossed, and Yibo knows he has overdone it.

“I appreciate your persistence, Yibo,” Wang Han says, “but if you push too hard, you’ll risk him seeking a lawyer and clamming up.” He turns to look at Yibo curiously. “You’re quite convinced of his guilt. Is there something I should know?”

“Just a gut feeling, Han-ge,” Yibo lies and stands next to Wang Han to observe Qian Feng work his magic.

It is two in the morning when Yibo finally parks his motorcycle at his apartment building, physically exhausted but brain too wired he will be going over his notes until dawn again instead of sleeping. But all thoughts disappear, however, replaced by alarm, as soon as he steps through his front door.

Even in the dark, Yibo knows right away there is an intruder in his apartment. And, with a sickening feeling of dread, he knows exactly who it is. He flicks on the lights, and sure enough, there is a familiar person on his couch.

“How did you get in here?” he asks though it wouldn’t be hard for someone with his skills.

“I told your landlady I wanted to sneak into your apartment to surprise you with a homecooked meal since you work so hard. Surprise!” Xiao Zhan waves his hand toward the kitchen table. “Dinner is on the table.” With that sweet, trusty face and charming smile of his, Yibo can’t fault his landlady for being won over and falling for such a ploy. “I see you still don’t cook anything more than instant noodles and live on takeout. How did you do without me all this time?”

From where he stands inside the door, Yibo crosses his arms and glares. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering him, Xiao Zhan poses a question of his own. “I would ask did you really think I’d sleep with an eighty-year-old lady, but you wouldn’t put it past me, would you?”

When Yibo says nothing, Xiao Zhan continues in a more solemn tone. “Did you really think I can be with anyone other than you?”

“Well, I have,” Yibo tells him, voice flat. The dates may not have progressed anywhere and the sex might have left him feeling hollower and lonelier than he would like to admit, but he hadn’t been single any more than he wanted to be. In true triumph over the past, he hadn’t spared a thought for Xiao Zhan in a long time before the day he walked into the museum and his heart dropped at that familiar figure.

Yibo doesn’t miss the minuscule tightening in Xiao Zhan’s jaw but his voice remains light. “You made detective. I’m so proud of you. You were always so hardworking.”

“Not afraid I’ll turn you in?”

“For what?” Xiao Zhan raises his eyebrows in innocent curiosity. “Charming sweet old ladies into letting me into your apartment to cook for you? Or leaving me their beloved paintings to cherish when their families wouldn’t? Or maybe you think I’m responsible for the disappearance of a priceless vase? I’d love to hear your theories on how that happened.”

Fuming, Yibo continues glaring as Xiao Zhan gets up from the couch. He approaches Yibo slowly like he is a cornered animal, reaching out to him when he gets close enough. That is a mistake. Yibo seizes his arm and, in a fast, forceful maneuver, has his limb twisted painfully behind his back.

It doesn’t stop Xiao Zhan from flirting though, slightly breathy with discomfort, “Like I said before, I go for the mean cops.”

Yibo yanks his arm higher, making him grunt louder in pain. “Why are you here?”

“To see you, of course. I was eager to hear from you but you didn’t answer any of my messages. Instead the next time we meet is in an interrogation room—”

“What does that say about you? Next time you might even be in handcuffs.”

“I just want to see how you are doing after all these years. That’s all.” He sounds so sincere Yibo releases him. Xiao Zhan rubs his arm.

“Take a look then.” Yibo gestures at his humble but tidy apartment. He may not cook still but he hasn’t done badly for himself. He has been just fine on his own without Xiao Zhan. “And get out.”

“I missed you. I meant it earlier when I said I’m still in love with you.” The heartfelt confession takes him by surprise, rendering him speechless.

Even if he hadn’t pined over Xiao Zhan, Yibo can’t deny he doesn’t miss those warm, glorious days of waking up to a soft tenor in his ear and coming home to kisses and a sweet embrace. Back then, he had never been so sure of his life and had no doubts of love the way he had no doubts of his career. He used to think forever when he looked at Xiao Zhan, even wholeheartedly believed that what he had found at twenty, he would always want until eighty. Now he knows how naïve he was because if something is too good to be real, it is. Qian Feng had teased him for being married to his work, but his career will always be there when other things in life turn out to be false.

Arms circle him and he is tucked under a chin high enough even for his height. He is enveloped in the same comforting smell he used to curl up to on his pillow, the smell that he at one point associated with home and safety.

He should get a grip on himself before a simple hug can undo him even more.

“If it’s what you want, I would go to jail—and stay there—for you.”

Coming from someone like him, it is the sincerest declaration of love.

“I swear I won’t walk out. You just have to promise me one thing.”

“Early parole?” Yibo scoffs. “That’s out of my hands. Take that up with the prosecutors.”

“No. I can be a model inmate and can get myself out sooner.” That Yibo can see happening: Xiao Zhan befriending fellow inmates and winning over prison officers for small concessions and eventually reduced jail time. “It’s something only you can give.”

When Yibo waits in silence, he answers, “Conjugal visits.”

“We’re not married.”

“We could be.” There is unmistakeable hope in Xiao Zhan’s soft murmur.

Once, Yibo thought so too and wouldn’t have thought twice about his answer. Now, he quips sarcastically into Xiao Zhan’s throat. “Is this your way of proposing?”

“It is if it works.” Though light, his voice is too sober to be a joke.

“You would serve out a jail sentence for me but won’t stop lying to me?”

“I don’t lie to you,” Xiao Zhan declares so honestly Yibo pulls back to stare at him in disbelief. “Not about my feelings. Other things, I just choose not to disclose information that would upset or disappoint you.”

Of course. Yibo huffs in exasperation but is too tired to bother arguing semantics.

Xiao Zhan kisses his forehead. “It’s late. If you don’t want to eat anything, let me put you to bed then.”

Yibo lets himself be tugged gently to his bedroom where Xiao Zhan proceeds to take off his leather jacket for him.

It is reminiscent of old times when Yibo would return home exhausted from long shifts to be taken care of by Xiao Zhan. Xiao Zhan would feed him and fuck his brains out, and sometimes he would undress him and bathe him like a spoiled pet, washing his hair and massaging his scalp while Yibo reclines in the tub. To date, he is still the only one Yibo had been vulnerable enough around to let undress and wash him. And also to date, he remains Yibo’s most indelible life lesson: that you can be the most intimate you’ve ever been with another person _yet_ still not know them at all.

As Xiao Zhan unbuttons his shirt, Yibo asks him, “Did you intend to show up in my life again or is this all a coincidence?”

“Sort of. I did plan to come after you eventually but not like this.”

“Not through a criminal investigation, you mean.”

“I did envision our reunion to be more romantic. _But_ I can’t say I hate the crook who did this and brought you back to me.”

Yibo rolls his eyes but is too fatigued to say anything. Xiao Zhan crouches down to remove his pants like he is undressing a coddled child, even lifting Yibo’s foot by the ankle to free his pant leg one at a time. Now Yibo is standing over his ex in only his underwear, not missing the fact that Xiao Zhan was able to get him naked and vulnerable before him so soon after showing up in his life again. Discarding Yibo’s pants to the side, Xiao Zhan is about to rise from his haunches but Yibo, not entirely in control of himself, immediately puts a hand on his shoulder.

Xiao Zhan looks up in curiosity, but his eyes soon glaze over at the want on Yibo’s face.

Maybe it is the exhaustion to blame, or loneliness from being on his own too long—or even the horniness of not getting laid in a while—or maybe Yibo’s defences will always be weak against Xiao Zhan, but Yibo knows he has already lost. Probably ever since he failed to kick the man out right away and instead made the mistake of listening to him when he knows better. Xiao Zhan is a natural at winning confidences and getting his way.

When he is better rested and thinking clearly, Yibo might be ashamed at how easily he capitulated to Xiao Zhan’s touches despite having moved on with his life. But for now, he is tired and Xiao Zhan has always been good at taking care of him.

Slowly so Yibo can stop him or push him away, Xiao Zhan, without breaking eye contact, pulls down his briefs just enough to free his half-aroused member. Circling it with his fingers, he gingerly pulls back the foreskin and brings his mouth to it, exhaling hotly before darting his tongue out to lave the round head. Yibo hisses and grips Xiao Zhan’s hair, gracelessly thrusting his groin into his face.

Xiao Zhan works him expertly with his tongue. Yibo sways above him, trying to stifle his cries to not give his ex the satisfaction of hearing how weak he makes him, and almost loses his balance when Xiao Zhan swallows him. Xiao Zhan relaxes his throat around Yibo’s shaft and starts bobbing his head. It has been too long since someone has gone down on him that very soon Yibo approaches the edge. When a finger slides between his asscheeks and circle his rim, Yibo comes with a breathy gasp, spilling into Xiao Zhan’s mouth.

Xiao Zhan draws back and wipes his lips with the back of his hand, smirking so much like a pleased cat who has caught—and demolished—its prey that Yibo regrets peaking so fast. A quick glance between Xiao Zhan’s legs assures Yibo he is stiff and not unaffected either. Yibo is not going to be the only one wrecked and intends to wipe that smugness off his face.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders, panting, not needing to say anymore.

Amused, Xiao Zhan obediently strips while Yibo gets out the lube and lies on his back on the bed. Hoisting his knees to his chest, Yibo reaches down to palm his dick and finger himself open, knowing full well what a sight he makes with his long legs strewn over his body, bracketing his hands fondling himself.

“Gorgeous,” Xiao Zhan breathes out, settling between his legs on the bed. “Always such a piece of art.” One palm presses down on Yibo’s thigh to hold him open while his other hand replaces Yibo’s fingers to move in and out of his hole.

Once he has stretched Yibo to his satisfaction, he lines his cock up and plunges in, making Yibo arch off the bed with a cry at being suddenly impaled. Xiao Zhan grabs his ankles and pulls him onto his cock, then hooks his elbows under his knees. Right away, he settles into a brutal pace, pistoning his hips in and out, their bodies making obscene slapping sounds.

It has been a while since Yibo got dicked down, even longer since he got a _good_ , satisfying dicking, hard and fast just the way he likes it. Even after years of separation, Xiao Zhan can still easily take Yibo apart with his dick. Tears pricking his eyes, Yibo whimpers as he takes a cock ramming hard and deep into him. Eventually, Xiao Zhan’s thrusts become erratic, and he closes a fist around Yibo’s dick to pump a second orgasm out of him. Yibo comes again with a loud strangled sob and feels Xiao Zhan follow suit, spilling hot and wet inside him.

His brain no more than a blissed-out pile of mush, Yibo is barely aware of Xiao Zhan kissing him and is too drained to even kiss back. Like always before, Xiao Zhan leaves him boneless and fucked out, ready to collapse into slumber. He feels himself be arranged under the blanket and spooned against a chest. It is too hot and sweaty for cuddling, but his eyelids are heavy and he just wants to surrender to sleep.

But he should make something clear first because he already knows Xiao Zhan won’t be there in the morning.

“Don’t think this means I’m not going to do everything to catch you,” he mumbles. “I’m not going to go easy on you just because you fucked me.”

Xiao Zhan kisses his shoulder, and Yibo can hear the smile in his voice. “I wouldn’t love you so much if you did.”


End file.
